Joy and Tiers Page 5

  “I appreciate the offer, Gidget, but I’m not a touchy-feely kind of guy. I’ve had a lot of really crappy stuff happen to me along the way. Some of it I deserved, and some of it I didn’t,” I reply vaguely, feeling regretful about my inability to trust people.

  “I understand. You don’t have to tell me your entire life story, I just wish I knew a little of your back story so that I don’t step on any land mines,” she responds.

  I raise an eyebrow. “You mean, for instance, land mines like … talking about land mines?”

  Heather turns ghostly white and puts her hand over her mouth as she gasps, “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! Is that what happened to you--I mean, is that why you’re not a soldier anymore?”

  I gather her hands up in mine, and I notice they’re cold. “Heather, take a deep breath. I was just flicking you crap. I’m fine, we can talk about it all you want. I want you to be comfortable with me. I’ll be happy to answer questions about whatever you want to know. Feel free to ask.”

  Heather slumps down a little as she breathes out a sigh of relief “Oh, thank God! I was afraid my thoughtless remark might have caused you a great deal of pain. I would never want to do that.”

  “Sometimes, I let my smart mouth run away from me. I didn’t mean to freak you out; I was only kidding. I do have some post-traumatic stress, according to the fine folks at the Veterans Administration, but I’m not so damaged that I can’t talk about it in general conversation. I’m still a soldier. I just serve in the National Guard now.”

  “Were you badly hurt?” Heather asks, concern evident on her face.

  “I caught some shrapnel and was burned. I tore up my shoulder pretty bad and had to have a couple of surgeries to repair it, but the worst was the bell ringing I took to my head. The rehabilitation specialists say I may never fully recover from it. It’s a lovely stew of confusing side effects. Sometimes I can’t remember words I’ve known since I was in kindergarten, and other times I’ll find myself crying at stupid television commercials that aren’t even intended to be emotional. That’s probably the most frustrating thing of all because I was never ‘that guy’. Unless I was sloppy drunk, I was pretty much always in control of my emotions. Now, they can sneak up on me out of the blue. The worst thing is coping with the death of the other members of my unit. They were under my command, and I was responsible for them. They died because of decisions I made that day, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. I think that changed me probably more than anything else.”

  “I know that you laid your life on the line as a soldier, but it’s still on the line every day as a law enforcement officer,” Heather continues. “I think if I had gone through what you went through, I would be curled up in my bed like a pill bug and never want to leave it. The fact that you still go out and serve the people every day is astonishing to me, and I respect you so much for it.”

  I swallow hard and shift in my chair. I fight the urge to run from her gentle, well-meaning words as they continue to rain down. They’re meant to be as soothing as a summer rain, but they burn like acid. They make me flinch.

  “I’ve been told by other soldiers,” she continues gently. “There’s a cost of war and if you did your best, it’s part of the risk,” she goes on, with a look of sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sure they don’t blame you.”

  I hate the pity. Everyone gets the same look. In the space of half a conversation, I’m suddenly half a man. If it’s bad for me, I can only imagine what it’s like for the driver of that convoy, Jason Fletcher. He came out of the ordeal as a double amputee. Trevor Black ended up maimed too.

  “I wish it were that easy,” I answer in a harsh whisper. “You didn’t see those guys when they died. I held one kid, barely old enough to shave while he drew his last breath. Another guy in my unit was two frickin’ days from retirement. His daughter was going to have a baby. Their lives were lost because I trusted the wrong people. I can never take that back.”

  “Did you make that decision all by yourself?” Heather asks softly. “I didn’t think the military worked that way. Don’t you decide things in duplicate and triplicate?”

  “Well, yes; there is that. The Army specializes in redundancy. No, I didn’t make the decision alone. You can’t take a piss without paperwork. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was responsible for those men.”

  Heather scoots back her chair, walks over to me, and gives me a gentle hug, resting her cheek against my shoulder. “I’m sorry you feel that way. It must be a terrible burden to carry. However, I know you to be a decent guy, and I’m sure you didn’t put your men in harm’s way on purpose. I’m sure they knew that too,” she murmurs, her words muffled by the corduroy fabric of my shirt.

  “Thanks so much for saying that. It’s just something I need to work through.” I say, wrapping my arms around her and giving her a gentle hug.

  “Are you ready for lunch?” I ask, more than ready to change the topic to happier things. “The guy at the Greek Deli said I bought the best stuff on his menu. I’m eager to see if you agree.”

  “It looks phenomenal, and I’m eager to try it. How did you know that gyros are my favorite food?” she asks, as she opens each container to examine the contents.

  “Honestly, I didn’t,” I admit. “It was just a lucky guess.”

  “Well, you should go buy a lottery ticket because you were spot on.”

  “We’re going to do what?” Heather asks, alarm making her voice squeak at the end of her sentences. “That’s close enough for the horses to see us.”

  “Well, I doubt that they’ll be keeping score,” I grin. “You can still cheat at croquet if you want to. They won’t tell on you.”

  “Can you get them off of me if they decide to attack?” she asks. Her panic is setting in.

  I smother a laugh and reassure her, “Heather, I’ve been leading horses around since I was about four years old. There isn’t a horse I can’t handle. If one of them got a wild hair up their butt and decides to do something totally out of character, I can handle it. I promise.”

  “Really? You’re not just making that up to make me feel better, right?” Heather probes.

  This time, I do chuckle. “No, Heather, I wouldn’t lie to you. I’ll keep you safe. Why are you so afraid of horses?” I ask, genuinely curious because Heather is typically fearless.

  “Oh honey, you have no idea. I’m scared of most things that don’t walk on two feet. I can handle house cats, but not so much alley cats. In that case, I’m on the fence. I was making friends with Lucky until he ate my shoes. Now, I’m beginning to reassess my decision to trust dogs.”

  “Lucky has a shoe fetish, I admit, but there’s no reason to be afraid of him. He’s a super nice dog. Look how well behaved he is around Becca.”

  “I know it’s not rational,” Heather explains. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told about my fear of house pets. I guess it started when I was a kid. People would tell me how nice their animal was, and how it would never bite anyone. Then it would turn around and bite me, and only me. Early on, I learned that I can’t trust animals. They call me the anti-Dr. Doolittle in my house. One of my mom’s favorite charities is a Greyhound rescue group, and she is very disappointed that I never help with her charity work. Have you seen those dogs? They look like walking skeletons. It’s Halloween every day around them.”

  “I can see I’m going to have to teach you to use some of your moxie around animals. If you act nervous, it makes them nervous. I’d be more than happy to work with you, on your confidence. I have a sweet border collie who can serve as your personal therapy dog to help overcome your phobia. Annie loves everybody,” I explain.

  Heather grins nervously. “You do realize that’s what everyone says to me, just before their dog takes a big chunk out of my calf. It would stand to reason horses would be an extremely bad bet for me.”

  “Gidget, I understand your reluctance. But I’m totally sure that I can keep you safe. My grandpa used to have a c
attle ranch in Oklahoma; I used to help him train horses and herd cattle and sheep. I know I can keep my lazy riding horses well in hand.”

  Heather visibly relaxes “Okay, I’ll let you handle it. Just to let you know—I totally scream like a girl. Mindy accuses me of trying to break her eardrums. You might want to avoid that if possible. It’s not pleasant.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind and do my best to avoid the pain. But I’ve got you covered. Do you want to start with croquet or lawn bowling?” I ask, trying to get her mind off the presence of my big four-legged babies.

  “Lawn bowling? You mean the traditional kind?” she asks her eyes lighting up with excitement.

  “Yep, I’ve got a gen-u-ine vintage old person’s game here. We can pretend we’re an old married couple livin’ in Florida or something.”

  “It’s funny you should say that because I learned it with my grandparents. We used to play every Sunday after church. My grandpa was a serious competitor. He even wrote down the score on a little pad with a small red pencil. After he passed away, my grandma found boxes of used pads where he had kept the scores for years. I don’t know if he was planning for an epic rematch or what. I have to warn you, I’m pretty good,” Heather brags with a smile.

  “Well, I haven’t had the advantage of being well schooled in the proper use of lawn bowling equipment, but we spent a lot of time improvising games while serving in the desert. I played several games with rocks which strongly resemble lawn bowling, so I might just give you a run for your money,” I challenge.

  “Oh, you’re so on, Cowboy! If you win, I’ll make you a batch of cookies or a pie of your choice,” she offers magnanimously.

  “That’s a generous offer, considering you’re going to lose this bet. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” I tease, waiting to see if she’ll rise and take the bait.

  “Yes, I’m sure, and when I win, you’re going to have to give up something for me. Have you considered what that might be?” Heather asks, with a decided twinkle in her eye. I suspect she gave her big brother a run for his money when they were growing up, so I consider my options carefully.

  “Maybe you would prefer it if I offered you an opportunity not to do something for a prize instead?” I tease.

  “Well, if you ever want me anywhere near these horses then you better play this game hard.” She continues “You just gave me a powerful incentive to play the most accurate game of lawn bowling ever played. I could make the Olympic team of lawn bowling just to avoid getting near your horses.”

  It’s too bad Heather’s so afraid of horses. Otherwise, I could see her as the quintessential rodeo queen, with big curly hair, audacious makeup, gaudy rhinestone shirts, skin tight Levi’s, and shiny boots. She has the personality and the vivaciousness to pull it off in a heartbeat. I’ve watched her with Mindy and Becca. I’ve seen that she is tender and caring. I know she would have a wonderful affinity with animals if only she can overcome her fears.

  “Heather, are you going to give this a chance? I think that I can help you with the horses if you let me. But I don’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do.”

  “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to react. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to any horses, ever. I would like to say I totally trust you to keep me safe. But, to be honest, after all I’ve been through with men in my life, I have issues with that. So I don’t know what to tell you, other than, ‘I’ll try’.” Heather says with a helpless shrug. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to disappoint you.”

  “Hey now, stop that,” I cajole. “Remember what I said about this being a people pleasing free zone? It applies to me. You can’t disappoint me just by having an opinion or a hang-up. Everybody’s got hang-ups. I have a whole truckload of them. We would need a day and half to catalog all of mine.”

  Heather blinks back tears. “Thanks for being so understanding; not everyone would be.”

  Her response baffles me. I wonder what type of relationships she’s been through before to make her feel like she doesn’t have the right to an opinion. Even when I was in a dark place with Stacia, we each had our points of view and voiced them quite loudly and often. As far as I know, Stacia was never apologetic for anything she ever did, even if she was wrong. I can’t imagine my former girlfriend apologizing for making me slightly uncomfortable. She would’ve probably just laughed at me.

  “Gidget, it’s no big deal. Trust takes a long time to build, and I need to earn your trust.”

  “Really? Because I would totally get it if it’s a problem. Don’t worry, I’ve had lots of people tell me I’m not worth their time. You wouldn’t be the first.”

  “If you think I’m stupid enough to let a woman like you slip through my fingers, think again.” I declare as I take Heather’s hand and lead her to the lawn bowling course I set up.

  I don’t think I’ve looked forward to something quite so much for a long while. Now, I just need to decide if I want to win or lose. Given our wager, it might be hard to tell the difference.

  “Are you sure this course is regulation?” I ask skeptically. “Everything seems very far apart.”

  “Well, I followed the directions and measured it off myself,” replies Tyler as he surveys the course with a confused expression on his face.

  It doesn’t take me long to figure out what happened. All you have to do is look at Ty and look at me. “Let me guess, you measured it off with your strides, didn’t you?” I ask, confident I already know the answer.

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s a legitimate way to measure things,” he protests.

  “If you’re average size, perhaps. However, you border on being a giant. Your strides are about equal to one and a half of an average person’s. So this course has been super-sized.”

  The look on his face is priceless as my explanation sinks in.

  “Oh, Crap. I was so nervous about you coming over today that I wasn’t even thinking. I am a woodworker. I do have tools, and I know how to use them,” he says sheepishly.

  I wink at him as I say, “Oh, I bet you’ve got tools. I bet you got a really nice set of tools.”

  “Miss LaBianca! I’m shocked by your bawdy sense of humor,” he exclaims with mock outrage.

  “Who me?” I ask with utmost innocence. “I was merely commenting on your chosen hobby as such a meticulous woodworker; you must have an impressive collection. My grandpa was always really proud of his Craftsman tools. Did you think I meant something else?” I ask my tongue firmly in my cheek.

  “Heather, don’t ever play poker. Your intentions are clearly written all over your face. In fact, if you went to Vegas, I don’t even think it’d be safe for you to play Go Fish,” he teases.

  “Oh, Man! You sound just like my brother, Carlton.” I complain. “He always says I can’t bluff worth beans either. I just don’t get it. He can get people to believe in anything. He left my dad’s business to sell insurance, and he can sell flood insurance in the middle of the desert. It’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen. I, on the other hand, couldn’t sell a candy bar to a famine victim,” I admit.

  “Trust me, Heather I would rather have one you than a million other girls who are good at subterfuge. Being good at telling lies is fine as a party game, but it’s lethal for a relationship. I’d rather have someone like you any day of the week. “Ty says, as he seems lost in his memories.

  “That’s good because I can’t even lie to the meter reader. Everybody laughs at me,” I reply to lighten the mood a little.

  It works as Tyler grins at me. “I can so see you confessing your sins to parking enforcement. I can also see you going and feeding everyone’s meter. Did you know that technically, we’re supposed to issue citations for that? Those are the days I suddenly become very nearsighted. Why would I give a ticket to somebody who’s trying to do something nice for somebody else? It’s just crazy to me. I don’t want to waste my time doing paperwork to punish nice people. Can you imagine me having to go to testify against someo
ne in court who was plugging the meter for somebody else?” I remark.

  “No, that’s just stupid,” I agree. “Are we ever going to play this game? Because I’m ready to kick your butt. Although, I think you should give me a head start because it’s going to take me twice as long to get over the course as it takes you.”

  “Yes, I’m ready. I’ve been ready for hours. I know it sounds dumb. But I’ve been looking forward to this,” he concedes with a half shrug.

  “Me too. Lawn bowling is surprisingly fun and competitive. My grandparents never make the game any easier for me just because I was a kid; so I’m used to nail-biting competition. As long as my wrists and shoulders hold out, we’ve got ourselves a game.”

  I grab one of the balls for the field shot and proceed to tell Ty a little bit about my journey from an introverted kid to being thrust in front of a microphone. I had forgotten how much fun it is just to shoot the breeze while whacking things with a stick.

  “That’s right I remember Kiera telling me that you spent an awful lot of time on stage as a kid,” he remarks.

  “Unfortunately, I did spend some time on the pageant circuit because my mom thought it would make me fit in better with her peers and encourage me to be less shy. I guess, it did work to a certain extent. I learned to be a great pretender and a people pleaser so that people didn’t know I was actually more shy than outgoing.”

  “Gidget, I think this is one of those situations where you and I see it differently. I think all that practice made it easier for you to talk to people, especially virtual strangers. In a crowd, you are the most gregarious person there whether you know it or not. You always engage in friendly conversation with everyone around you like you’re totally fearless.”

  “That’s so sweet. I’m glad you see me in such a positive light,” I respond. “Though, I think you’ll find the real me a little less bubble-gum pink than you imagined. I am quite sarcastic and snarky on occasion. Some folks find me downright annoying,”